


The Sound of Rain

by silverivy13



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Hospitals, M/M, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7958122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverivy13/pseuds/silverivy13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gintoki always seemed to realize things a bit late. This was no different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it's a oneshot. Yes, I was in an angsty place writing this (lol)

The sound of rain. Screams. Blood everywhere. And someone was crying. But he didn’t know who. And he didn’t want to.

Gintoki awoke to the sound of raindrops falling gently on the tiled roof. So that was why he dreamed of that. Today already seemed awful. He rose slowly, stretching his arms above his head to get some feeling back into them as he glanced at the calendar on the wall. May 5th. What ugly weather for the middle of spring. Though that was to be expected, of course. Everything seemed ugly now.

He wandered to the kitchen but quickly decided that he had no appetite. Normally that was accompanied by a massive alcohol-induced headache, but today was one of the rare days that that was not the case. He was perfectly sober.

Pulling on his shoes and choosing an umbrella, a sleep voice muttered his name. He turned to see Kagura standing in the doorway.

“You are up early, Gin-chan. Off to buy the next Jump?” Gintoki smiled.

“Not today, Kagura. There’s other matters for Gin-san to attend to.”

“A job?”

“Nope. Personal things. Be a good girl and behave. Don’t forget to walk Sadaharu too.”

“I’m not a child Gin-chan, we’ll be fine.”

“I’ll see you tonight then.” She nodded back. Gintoki smiled slightly before turning and opening the door. Offering a wave over his shoulder, the door slid shut with a thunk. And Kagura stared at it for a long time.

“He could always just tell me. We both know I know where he is going.”

…

The streets were, as expected, very empty. A lone businessman or salesperson here and there, but nothing like the busy streets Edo was used to. Gintoki’s boots splashed the water, kicking up the droplets that sparkled in the lights hanging outside the shop windows. A soft whisper of thunder echoed across the graying sky, large storm clouds blocking any hint of sunshine. The rain began to fall harder and Gintoki pulled his scarf a bit tighter around his neck. It was cold. Just like that day. As his mind began to drift back to that day a year ago, lightning split the sky in two. It was almost symbolic. It had been raining that day as well.

“Danna?” A familiar voice hit his ears, shaking the man out of his thoughts, thoughts he wished he could escape. He turned to meet the crimson eyes of the speaker.

“Hey Okita-kun. You look like a wet rat.” The blonde had no umbrella, instead opting to act as though it wasn’t raining at all. His hair was soaked as water streamed down his face, black uniform clinging to his tiny frame.

“I’d like to think I look a little better than that, don’t you?” The man chuckled back. “Just forgot my umbrella, that’s all.” Gintoki frowned slightly at that.

“So even you feel today’s a little different. That’s a surprise.”

“I suppose it is. Things like this don’t normally rattle me I guess.” Gintoki nodded. “Well, what can I say? Things have been pretty weird lately. Wait. Now that I think about it, it’s been weird for a long time, hasn’t it?”

“About a year.” Gintoki agreed.

“Huh. Time flies. Still feels like yesterday.” Gintoki said nothing, and no words were needed. They both understood. 

“You heading this way then?” Gintoki asked. “We can share it.” He gestured to the umbrella. Sougo laughed.

“What’s the point? I’m already soaked.”

“Better than getting more wet, ain’t it? Just stop at a shop somewhere and buy an umbrella when we pass one. You’ll get sick otherwise.”

“Who are you, my dad? With a dad like you, any child would be way too twisted. Guess that explains me though.” Sougo replied, but even his insults didn’t seem to hold the sting they normally did. Although his words were cold, he still joined Gintoki under the shield from the rain. The two walked in tandem for a while before Gintoki spoke again.

“I’m gonna go.” He said quietly. Sougo stopped and looked at him in shock, his mouth trying to form thousands of questions but unable to decide on just which one.

“...Why?” He finally said. “Why now?”

“I owe that much at least, don’t I?” He replied, looking up at the gray clouds peeking out from the umbrella. “I owe that.” This time the words were definitive. Sougo studied him for a while as they continued walking, before finally sighing.

“Alright. I’m not gonna stop you. It isn’t my place. I haven’t gone in months myself. But Kondou’s gonna be there.”

“I know.”

“You know he’s still upset.”

“I know.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

A small smile slipped across Sougo’s lips when he heard that. “That’s so like you, Danna.” He glanced over to see a small shop, the open sign flickering on and off. “I’m gonna stop here then. I’ve dried off too much to not need an umbrella now.” Gintoki nodded and waved as he continued down the street, with Sougo rushing to the awning. Watching the man’s back for a bit, he stepped forward.

“Danna!” Gintoki stopped, glancing behind him. Sougo smiled softly, a rare sight to behold.

“Good luck.” And the smile he got in return seemed to hold all the sadness in the world. As the samurai resumed his walk, Sougo sighed.

“I wish he could forgive himself.”

…

It occurred to Gintoki that he was forgetting one of the most important things just as he passed the perfect shop. Turning from the road, he entered the doorway and turned, shaking out the umbrella before walking inside. An elderly woman dressed in a pale green kimono with golden and red flowers on it, her thin gray hair wrapped into a bun and clipped with an ornate golden pin, turned to smile at him.

“Well aren’t you an odd customer.” She said, a warm toothy smile on her face. Gintoki nodded. “What can I get for you?”

“I want something pretty.”

“Pretty, huh? You’re going to need to be more specific. Any colors? Types?” Gintoki thought a moment before replying.

“Do you have any light blue ones? They’re purplish blue actually. Kinda small? Hanging on a stalk.” The old woman chuckled.

“You mean bluebells?”

“That sounds right.” He followed her through the vases of roses, daisies, lilies, irises and many others. Those were the only ones he could name. The flower shop smelled sweet. Normally it would have been nice scent. Today it just seemed sickly. He stopped in front of a particularly red rose. The crimson color seemed as deep as it was that day. Blood had never seemed as bright as it was during the war. But that day had been different.

“Here.” The old woman handed him a small bouquet, a single stalk of bluebells surrounded by delicate looking white blossoms. They were tied together by a pale blue silky ribbon.

“This work?” He nodded. “Right then. You best be on your way.”

“Eh? What about payment?” The old woman looked at him, and, for a moment, it was as though she was looking straight through him, at his heart, which had just one too many cracks in it. And she smiled.

“This one is on me.”

“But-”

“No but’s. I can tell it’s important. Plus you don’t have any money anyway, do you?” Gintoki patted his pocket before realizing she was right. He must have forgotten to grab his wallet.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“Don’t be. Buck up a little, youngster. You’re far too young to have such a look of pain on your face.” His eyes widened. This woman had seen through him in an instant. Before he could respond, she smiled again, grabbing him and turning him around to push him towards the door.

“W-wait!” He said, stopping. Turning to look at her, he bowed as low as he could. “Thank you.” The old woman just nodded.

“Who’s the girl?” She asked as he walked out the door. Pausing for a brief moment he thought.

“...A friend. Yeah. A friend.”

…

Gintoki had always hated going to the doctor. The smell of medicine, the steel tools, the unfriendly environment. Most of all, it reminded him of death. He had had enough of that for a lifetime. As he sat in the waiting room, trying to think of what to say, his mind drifted for once again that day.

Gunfire. He hadn’t been expecting it, of course. Who pulls a gun in a swordfight? Even terrorists had the pride to not do that. It was cowardly. He had been winning, of course. No one could defeat him when it came to fighting with a blade. Not that he was proud of that. And then he heard the blast of a gun, quickly followed by someone shouting his name and a flash of pain in his chest.

Things had gotten a bit blurry after that.

There had been more screaming. His head was ringing from hitting the ground a bit too hard, and the yells didn’t help. He couldn’t quite remember who it was that killed the bastard who had the gaul to shoot at him. Sougo seemed to be the right choice. But that didn’t seem right, he had remembered thinking that was wrong. It shouldn’t have been Sougo. But it was. Why was it? And had his kimono always been this heavy? And though there was a pool of blood beneath him, he didn’t feel any pain except from where his head hit the ground. His head had slowly raised, trying to make sense of what was going on. As his eyes focused, he remembered the world had stopped. The yells of pain, fury, sorrow, vanished. He heard nothing. And the silence was impossibly loud.

“What are you doing here.” A voice growled and Gintoki slowly raised his head to meet Kondou’s angry gaze, the hospital waiting room replacing the battlefield.

“Visiting.” Gintoki replied simply. The man glared down at him, his fists slowly clenching.

“I should send you away. You have no right. None at all.” When Gintoki didn’t respond, Kondou darted forward, grabbing Gintoki’s collar and hauling him to his feet. “You shouldn’t have come!” He spat, tears forming in his eyes. “I don’t want to have to deal with you! Especially on today of all days! It was all your fault! Everything! It was all you! Do you even understand that?!” After a long while, Gintoki responded.

“...I know.” He whispered quietly, his voice cracking slightly. This took Kondou back. As Gintoki raised his head, Kondou had to stiffen himself to keep from flinching. Gintoki’s face seemed normal at first glance, but his dead fish eyes were replaced by ones that glistened in the right light, his face forcing itself to not show any expression. But you could see it anyway. Searching his face, Kondou groaned heavily before shoving Gintoki back into his chair.

“...I can’t forgive you.” He said finally. “I just can’t. But I can’t hate you either. Not when you look like that.” Gintoki stood, stepping forward.

“Kondou-san, I-”

“Stop. Just stop. You can go. I’ll let you. I won’t stop you. It’s been a year, after all.” The man smirked bitterly. “I just can’t stay mad at you that long. It’s not what he’d want.” As the Shinsengumi Commander stalked from the hospital, Gintoki watched him go. He couldn’t apologize. It was as Kondou said, he had no right. Turning quietly, he walked to the front desk, the nurse flinching away from him a bit. He smirked.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m just here to visit someone.”

“I-I see.” She said nervously. “What is their name?’ Gintoki told her and the nurse directed him to the right room.

His footsteps echoing down the hall sounded thunderously loud. The flowers in his hand felt wet and he realized his palms were sweating. Gintoki swallowed hard as he stopped, grabbed the door handle, slid it open, walked in.

The person lying still on the bed, their soft breathing letting out puffs of air into the mask over their mouth and nose. The sound of a steady heartbeat echoed throughout the room. Gintoki somehow found his way to the chairs. After a long while, he spoke.

“...Hey.” It sounded stupid, and he knew it. They’d laugh at him. But that was fine. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” A silent response awaited him. “How’ve you been? Well, I guess not good, if you’re here ‘n all.” He answered his own question, cursing his brain.

“I brought you flowers. I think you said you liked them a while ago. I remembered.” He smiled softly to himself. “I remember a lot of things these days.” As he muttered this, Gintoki slowly set them in the glass of water at the bedside. He couldn’t find anything else to say. After a whole year, there was nothing. Gradually he became aware of a loud thumping noise. His heart was racing, trying to process all the feelings it had at the moment, trying desperately to not crack any further. Anymore and it would break for good.

It wasn’t like death or injury was new to him. They were a part of life, more normal than good health. It took a lot to shake him. So why did this feel so different? Why was this one of the hardest things he’d ever done? Why could he not forgive himself? Why did it hurt so much? And slowly, ever so slowly, he began to realize. And he laughed, a loud, bitter bark of laughter as something wet his cheek.

“Why now, of all days, do I realize it? That’s too like me.” As he lowered his head into his hands, his white hair flopping lifelessly around his hands, his mouth twisted into a grimace. “I never notice what’s important till it’s too late.”

And after a long, long, long pause, he raised his head. A single tear dripped down his face as he stared at the person on the bed.

“I love you.”

He didn’t know when, but somewhere along the road, feelings of animosity had turned to friendship. And that had blossomed into love. Or maybe that had always been there. Gintoki didn’t really know what it felt like to love someone. He knew he loved his family, Kagura, Shinpachi, Sadaharu. He knew he had loved Shouyou-sensei. But this was a different kind of love, an unfamiliar kind. But he knew that was what it was.

“I love you.” He repeated, standing to pull the chair closer to the bed. As he sat, he took the cold hand lying at the person’s side in his own, holding it tightly. Lowering his head, a new wave of guilt crashed over him.

The bullet from a year ago had never struck him. It had struck this man. This man, who had also realized his own feelings just a second too late. But he learned them in time to save Gintoki’s life.

And he had been asleep ever since.

“Please…” Gintoki murmured as his head rested on the hospital bed. “Wake up. Please Hijikata. Wake up.”


End file.
